A Web of Confusion
by Phoenix-Flower92
Summary: Slash: After a horrible freak accident, Blaise Zabini begins to act differently towards Draco Malfoy. Draco doesn't understand why Blaise is acting the way he is. He wonders if Blaise's new attitude has something to do with him.
1. His Only Friend

A/N: _This is my first Blaise Zabini fic but I think it turned out pretty well. Blaise is a male who has been dating Draco since 5th year. If you don't fancy slash, consider this your warning and get out now! Thanx and enjoy!_

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Blaise Zabini

It all happened so sudden…so fast….so very….unexpected. Everything did—from my annoying sister Aiden to my twisted obsession over M.S. The events of that day still remain unsolved, mind-blowing, life changing, and frightening. M.S. is facing either the fate of being sold to new owners or being put to sleep. Whatever happens, I'm afraid I'll never be the same again.

I remember everything. Every last moment and detail of that day has been glued to the inside of my brain, and will be forevermore. No kidding. I know nobody believes me, but we really were fine. I've explained it a million times, how she only went wild because of the sound she heard in the woods. Mum, dad, all the healers are convinced that I'm still delirious from the accident. Aiden and Draco are too upset to even take sides.

But here's the thing. They weren't there! **I** was there, **I** was controlling M.S., and **I** know when she's misbehaving and when she isn't. **I** know for a fact that M.S. didn't mean to hurt me. I'd even swear on it. We were fine. Both of us. **She** was fine—calm, trained, tame, at ease…she really was. She even did great bringing me to the destination I wanted to be at—deep in the heart of the East Forest. I didn't need to tug her extra hard or scream and yell at her. There were no problems whatsoever. She obeyed me and I rewarded her. All my training **had** helped. I was proud. Prouder than I had been in a long time.

My incredibly strong anger from the morning rush and madness had finally drained in every last inch of my body. And I knew why. The honor and thanks all went to her, M.S. What could I say? She relaxed me and brought me to a world that released all my worries and cares in life. A world where no one judged me because of my race, my thick Hispanic accent, my interests, personality, sexual orientation, or faults. She took me places no one else could. My mind often wondered to that world. Even after she left, deserted me, landed me in a bed for several weeks…

The feeling that surrounded me when we ran off together that day was wonderful. More than wonderful. Extraordinary. I could not have been happier. I rode her down to the lake, nearly ten miles into the East Forest. I wasn't allowed to go that far into the East. **EVER**. Especially on her—bareback, with no protection, no helmet, no halter, or anything at all. It was dangerous, and no doubt a serious risk of my own life, but I was mad at the time. I wasn't thinking straight, everyone seemed against me, and I was sure no one would notice the absence. They probably wouldn't have if M.S. had never heard the noise and panicked. Besides, I **had** to run away for a while. My parents would have buried me alive had I not done so.

I rebelled. So what? I always had, and I always would. I was a Slytherin—a sly, cunning, careful, cold-hearted, popular Slytherin boy. And I didn't have to beg for my reputation. I deserved it, and I wanted it. I loved my place in the game of life. I knew I could lie, cheat, steal, and do all kinds of horrible deeds without being caught. I had a 'Get out of Jail Free' card that no other house at Hogwarts had. I took advantage of it and didn't care. No one could figure me out either. That was another thing I liked. People trying to analyze me and find out my problem—it's always a good laugh, I tell you. Being mysterious, cryptic, and evil all fit together well in my mind, and as far as I was concerned, I liked being talked about. I liked being favored, treated special, digging up and spreading dirty rumors, starting fights and winning them…I loved trouble, and I didn't play by rules.

I took M.S. out far away from my family. We sat by the lake for what seemed like hours, talking and laughing. She listened to me the whole time, even as I switched from one language to another, blending both my English and Spanish into each sentence. I was Latino, and she knew that. I told her the first time I saw her, when she and I were both very young, and I couldn't ride alone. Now we were older, and I could ride by myself all around the Zabini Manor, through the West Forest which led to the Malfoy Manor, and at least two miles into the East Forest, but no further.

Of course, as a rebel Slytherin, I always rode further than two miles in the East Forest. Way further. Normally, I rode until we were a good six miles into it, but today, my fury forced me to take the dare of riding all the way to a rumored lake in the forest. M.S. didn't stop until I allowed her to, and I didn't exactly let her until I'd found the beautiful lake that Draco Malfoy had once told me about. It was as breath taking as he'd told it, and for once I felt jealous that the hard-cored, pain loving, blonde boyfriend was actually allowed to visit it often. At one time, I'd asked my parents if I could go far in the East if Draco went along with me, but the answer remained a no. I never did understand why until late that afternoon when the accident took place…

When M.S. and I first arrived at the lake, we circled it a couple times and admired the beauty of it together before picking out just one spot. There was a small dock for a few people to sit down, go fishing, and enjoy a picnic. Tied up to the dock were a few motorboats. I'd never been fishing before, and I'd only rode in a boat once before—in order to get across the lake at Hogwarts in my first year, but I still didn't mess with the boats or fishing rods on the dock. I had no desire to.

Slowly, I released the tight pressure I'd pressed onto M.S.'s chocolate-brown fur from my dangling legs as her signal to slow down. Finally, she came to a halt at the edge of the water so I jumped down proudly and patted her softly on the neck. Then I took off my shoes and socks to soak my feet in the clear, blue water of the fresh lake. Later I rubbed her ears and back as we talked, played, and laughed. It was perfect…I wasn't scared at all. She made me happy. She was my only friend.

And then we were headed back—out of the forest and towards the stables and manor. But we didn't get that far. The noise startled her. I'm not even sure what it was now that I think about it. A four-wheeler, skateboard, tractor, snake, lizard, rabbit, fox…something was there, and whatever it was, it drove her wild. I tried patting her gently, but it didn't work. All I could do was pray she'd stay calm. "Shh…it's okay girl. Nothing's there…keep going…esta bien…"

But something WAS there, and it wasn't okay. I couldn't deny it much longer. She began to whine and buck her head around violently. As she carried on, I began to panic as well. '_What if she suddenly runs off and I fall? What if she refuses to bring me home? What if she's sick? Or, what if she's hurt?_'

Within seconds I found my heart beating five times faster than a normal heart ever could, and the ends of my short, perfect brown hair were drenched in sticky hot sweat. Moments later, her front two hooves jumped a foot in the air as she neighed wildly. I let out a loud, piercing shriek, not able to hold on any longer. Even the saddle and halter would have made this situation any better or safer. I was helpless. As soon as she jumped up I fell hard to the cold, rough, muddy ground beneath me.

I fell so hard it felt like my skull cracked. Maybe it did. There was blood…I saw it…everywhere…ruby-red blood staining my robes and the grass that surrounded me. My head began to spin at this revolting sight as the pain developed all over…it was searing…blinding…agonizing…and….razor sharp. It shot up in all directions of my now shaking and quivering body. It reminded me of how an epilepsy victim could feel during a really horrible attack.

Of course, seizures probably aren't as bloody and painful as this. The pain, just like the blood, seemed to be everywhere—my arms, legs, chest, and spine. It didn't stop, either. It got worse. And worse. And worse. I couldn't bare it. Tears flooded down my cheeks for the first time in my life. Why me?

I howled and screamed as my frantic mind raced with horrible, bloody thoughts. I couldn't help but cry and scream out, especially when my mind drifted off to an outcome I never intended to consider or even think about. I thought about the very worst fate for myself, the one that no one want to even hear until they are so old it won't matter. The one everyone fears, and the one everyone must face no matter what may come. Death. I squeezed my teary eyes shut so tight that it stung, and still, the image of my grave would not erase.

Oh, bugger. **I **_was dying._ I just knew it. I was dying and no was coming to save me. I didn't have a hero. Heroes only existed in fairy tales, fantasies, and dreams, and since my life wasn't any of those, I wasn't about to be rescued. My life was real, unfair, bloody, dramatic, and not about to become better.

Think about it. I was deep in a dangerous forest, beyond the land my parents allowed me to use. I was bleeding. I was in major, major pain. I thought I'd be okay at first since M.S. was at my side. But then I heard hoof beats…they went away…**She** went away…**She** left me…alone to die in the grass. She was my friend, my baby, and my getaway. She was the first girl I had ever actually liked even though she was only an animal. And she left me alone…in the cold…feeling queasy…bleeding to death…shaking like mad…sweating…crying…I could barely think now… I wasn't conscious much longer….

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(Reader hears a loud, rapid heartbeat like at the end of a dramatic soap opera…)

Muhahahaha!

Cliffhanger

A/N: _Like? No like? Can't tell because you're confused? Need another bucket to barf in? Don't worry because everything will be cleared up soon, M.S. won't be sticking around much longer, and more slashy goodness is on its way. Stay tuned to discover Draco's reaction to Blaise's accident. Read and Review._


	2. Girl Problems

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**Draco Malfoy **

"There must be thousands of secret rooms and chambers in this beautiful mansion…" the high-pitched replica of Pansy Parkinson rang in my ear.

I shifted uneasily in my seat, knowing exactly what she wanted and craved. Her beady, anxious sky blue eyes gave it all away as she winked. "You know what I mean, gorgeous Blondie Bear?" she purred in that soft, warm, ice-melting way that most guys live and die for.

The crushing girl smiled slyly in an awkward and up-to-something way, her mind no doubt filling with disturbing thoughts and images that only I knew would never ever occur between the two of us. It wouldn't matter if she happened to be a stunning, cover-girl magazine model resembling a Barbie doll, considering I didn't bend that way. No matter how she looked, I'd always have to hurt her feeling by denying the offer. (Which, by the way, in this case didn't bother me too much. She seemed far from my type). Any other girl, if I were straight, would probably be told yes. "You **DO** know what I mean, right?" she whispered again, obviously thinking I didn't because of the fact I hadn't yet responded.

I fidgeted around shyly in my seat, feeling light-headed and panicked as I always did in these situations. "I really don't think my parents would approve," I whispered to her nervously. "You aren't supposed to leave a dinner party anyway…"

I could feel my face burning red with embarrassment and discomfort, and my hands were beginning to sweat like mad. This was so bloody awkward. It must have all been a reaction to her wicked smile and hot, minty-fresh breath, which hung all around my face and in my ears from all the dirty whispering she didn't want adults to hear. "Have you ever asked them if you could or if they minded? You're what, almost seventeen? They probably would be thrilled for you to get out there and have some fun. My parents gave me 'The Talk'. I'd say if yours haven't already and sat down with you for that talk, you should bring it to them. Force them to talk about it and--"

I shot her an angry, dark stare the whole time and she finally received the message to shut up. "Okay, scratch asking your parents," she shrugged. "What about after the dinner party? We could do it secretly in on of your chambers—there are probably rooms in this place that they don't know about, right? We'd sneak in later tonight after our parents think we're in bed and no one would ever know! Or we could do it tomorrow if tonight's not good. C'mon—aren't you sick and tired of being a virgin? I know I am!"

I nearly gagged on my tea and then raised an eyebrow when she turned away for a moment to make sure out parents were still deep in conversation. Her? Not a virgin? Bollix that! I tried not to snort when she returned her gaze to me. This babe certainly in every way failed the virgin test. She was absolutely lying. Any real virgin wouldn't carry her hunger…her desire and passion.

No, a true virgin would be a little nervous, and wouldn't pester anyone into it. They'd wait for just the right person to release their virginity. And I know because I've been through the process twice. First with a girl, which led me to an important epiphany—I didn't feel the love and passion that came with being with girls. It felt wrong, and I couldn't get into it.

I always knew that girls didn't turn me on, no matter what they did, but I felt scared to face it. I wanted to be normal, and decided if I did it with one, maybe my eyes would open and my wish would come true.

My eyes **DID **open, but not to girls. After that horrible night with a girl, I realized girls really didn't attract me—boys did. And that fact wouldn't change. So I waited for my man, a much more challenging mission, but when I found him, it all felt right. Blaise Zabini was exactly like me: Slytherin, cold-hearted, rich, and gay. He even lived near me. Only a short forest separated our mansions so we could visit any time.

I rode over to his place on either my broomstick or my wiz four-wheeler 069, and he rode over to my place either by his broom or one of his beautifully bred animals back at the Zabini Riding Stables. (But to be more specific, he usually only rode beautiful M.S., his baby). Still, even with his strange obsessions, I loved him. Blaise Zabini was all I wanted and everything I needed. I felt happy with him—he was **my** baby, and since M.S. didn't really count, I was his too.

"No thank you," I whispered some time later after I finished all the food on my plate.

Gitta had already forgotten our discussion. "What?" she questioned softly.

"Your offer," I replied. "No thank you. My parents have this creepy way of knowing everything I do. They might have hidden cameras in every room for all I know—even in the secret chambers. So I don't want to take the offer. Besides, you're hot and everything, but…well I…I don't think I'm quite ready to…you know…**do** it. This is all me, it's not you." I explained.

Ooh…I'm convincing, aren't I? Bet you didn't expect me to successfully pull off the _inexperienced loser-straight-guy_ act, eh? Well, I've had tons of practice…

"It's okay, sweetie—I've never done this before either and--" I cut her off.

"Gitta, please, I'm not into this. Let's drop it okay? Before my parents hear? They have hearing like cats and dogs do. How about we talk about Quidditch or school—just something else, please?" I whined, trying not to beg, although that sounded an awful lot like I was begging.

It didn't even help. She shook her head, blonde curls bouncing up and down as she did so, another moment most guys would cherish. "Please, Drakie? You're so hot; I gotta have this with you. Please? I'll protect myself, I promise!"

I shook my head and sighed hopelessly. This is why I hate attending my father's dinner parties—the families that visit us for dinner and business are always stuck up, rich, and evil. And they always have boy-crazy daughters that simply can't resist me and my body. They look at me once and can't get enough, which is the reason they always request to sit by me throughout the entire party. Once they've got me in their reach, they begin to cling to me and most of them **DO** ask for—**YOU KNOW**. The word I don't ever want to do with a girl again. Basically, dinner parties are a gay guy's worst nightmare and they are _so_ embarrassing and uncomfortable to sit through.

I've even had two daughters fight over me before. Talk about annoying—I ended up with such a headache that night—oh, my gosh, it's not even funny…the memories still sting…

At least at Hogwarts, practically everyone knows I don't fancy girls and that I have a boyfriend instead of a girlfriend. Blaise and I figured out our feelings for each other in the middle of 5th year, and have been dating since, so by now, the only people who don't know are first years. And they usually find out by the time they become second years.

But dinner parties are held for families with children attending other schools like Durmstrang, Beauxbatons, or Nolan Academy, so the girls have no idea what my sexual orientation is. They always assume I'm straight. My parents should really just tell them up front that they have a gay son, because that would make matters so much easier.

I asked them a long time ago if they would, but both of them rejected it and said no. Mother said it would embarrass her for the rest of her life knowing that not just Hogwarts knew about it, and Father believes that the whole idea of girls flirting with me at dinner, making me uncomfortable and ashamed is an excellent way to punish me.

He still hates the fact I'm gay because it means I can no longer carry on the Malfoy name. Ever since this all came out, he's treated me nastier than he used to, stopped buying things for me and won't even allow Blaise in the manor when he's around, but that's okay because the Zabini's help me out every time I need it.

They have handled Blaise's whole problem calmly and respectfully, so I can run to them all the time and know they'll talk to me about anything I want and help me in any way I need. They're like the family I never had.

Anyways, today the annoying, flirting girl went by the name of Gitta Rosenburg, who attended Durmstrang, a soon-to-be seventh year, just like me. She seriously never gave up on what she wanted. "I bet you look hot naked…" she purred into my ear, shivering at the thought as she looked me up and down and settling her eyes on a low place.

I gagged, re-arranging my position again as my stomach tightened. I just knew I was on the verge of barfing. At least I could do it on her…I don't know, though…knowing Gitta, she'd probably like it. "I bet your parent's don't know you're a sick and perverted psycho!" I retorted under my breath.

She simply shrugged at this. "I bet they don't."

I sucked in a deep, painful sounding breath and clenched my fists under the table. There were only a few remaining minutes until dessert would be served, but after that, we'd all move into the parlor to hit all the points not already discussed. And most families remained in the parlor until ten or eleven o'clock at night. Aye, aye, aye…this is going to be a long night…

"Come, on, baby…"Gitta whined. "Don't you want just a little taste of me? A kiss?"

"No," I growled.

Couldn't she tell I didn't want this? Was she _that_ blind to her surroundings? "Come on…just a little touch…you know you want it…" she continued, her voice laced with sugar-sweetness and passion.

"**NO**!" I repeated, my voice giving up and finally releasing my agitation and anger.

Gitta giggled, rocking back and forth in her seat, completely delighted. "Ooh…you're so _cute_ when you're angry, baby!" she squealed through her giggles.

I scowled, about to stand up and shout '_I'm Gay!'_ and then run up to my room, lock the door, jump out my window and run to Blaise's house for a surprise visit. He's not expecting me tonight because I informed him of the dread party, so I'm sure he'd love it if it turned out I _could_ visit him.

Luckily, Gitta had a sweet tooth and shut up as soon as Anastasia, one of the house elves, began passing out desserts. "Ooh…dessert!" she shrieked, grabbing up her fork and taking a big chocolaty bite.

'Halelujah!' I thought, relieved that my girl problems had come to a temporary halt.

Of course, now that the Gitta problem disappeared momentarily, another one popped up, just to my luck. Seriously—everyone's punishing me because of the fact I'm not straight! I didn't even receive dessert. When Anastasia came around to my position, dessert was not what she gave me. Her huge, bulgy eyes popped out and her ears seemed larger than normal.

"Mr. Malfoy," she stuttered, her tone more serious than normal for some reason. "Anastasia has a—a wiz phone call waiting for Mr. Malfoy in the—the kitchen."

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**Muhahahaha!**

**Another Cliffy (Dramatic change from chapter one, though, eh?)**

**A/N: Think you know who's on the phone? Still majorly confused? Stay tuned! I know I've not cleared everything up yet, but it's only the second chappie, and I don't plan to rush the story up to clear things up quickly. Each chapter will give you a better understanding of the situation, since this is sort of a mystery fic. Trust me, you'll understand everything soon enough—until then use your imagination on what you think will happen…thanx! And Please review to let me know what you think.**


	3. The Phone Call

A/N: _Hey Guys! Thanks for the reviews ! OK, this chapter reveals that it is Maya's culture for women to keep their last name after marriage and men to change it. I'm informing you of this because there's a conversation where Draco is still confused after Blaise's dad tells him his name. Since Draco is not thick, I knew that if he had a different last name, there wouldn't **BE** confusion on Draco's part. And if Zabini were Blaise's dad's current name, then Blaise would've changed his name all the time. (And then it would mean that this particular dad was still married to Maya in Blaise's first year). So, anyways it made more sense to make it Maya's culture to keep her last name._

_And I do, however, know that most people, when they marry, have the woman change her last name. OK, thanks…now…Chapter 3!_

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"It's—it's Mr. Zabini, sir," her voice shook slightly more than usual, but I guessed she was just nervous about her awkward position.

She, after all, had to pull me from the table during an important dinner party at the same time as mentioning my boyfriend in front of people who were unaware of my affection towards males. But Mr. Zabini? Since when is Blaise referred to as Mr. Zabini? Usually when he's on the phone, house elves refer to him as 'young master Zabini', 'your boyfriend', or simply 'Blaise Zabini'. Never 'Mr. Zabini'—that sounds like an adult wishes to speak to me.

Hmm…it's weird. I suppose father created a new rule that if Blaise call while we're entertaining guests, the house elves are required to refer to him as Mr. Zabini. But why? They could call him Blaise Zabini and young master Zabini as well without giving away our relationship together.

Or maybe it's just a new name Anastasia wants to try out…Blaise is, after all, now seventeen—of age. So he is an adult, I guess…or maybe it's just Anastasia's nerves. She's already a nervous-type, so she's really not comfortable using anything else than Mr. Zabini in front of the Roseburg's. This is after all, the first time since Blaise and I have been dating that he's called while we've had guests.

Yes. That is most certainly it. There's no other explanation. It's not like she knows what Blaise wants—like anyone would **REALLY** tell a house elf anything important. It's not like there's something wrong at Zabini Manor. It **COULDN'T** be anything—it just couldn't. Blaise probably just forgot I had a dinner party tonight, Anastasia didn't remind him, and became nervous about getting me over to the phone. It all makes sense…

I politely folded my napkin, set it beside my plate on the right and excused myself from the table after receiving annoyed death looks from my father and pleading looks from Gitta. 'Ha!' I thought. 'You have to sit all by your lonesome for awhile!'

Snickering, I followed Anastasia into a spotless kitchen where she handed me the wiz-phone and scurried off. "Draco Malfoy speaking," I said without thinking, the ridiculous line my father demands me to say first-thing whenever handed the phone, even if it _is_ my boyfriend on the other line.

"Hello, Draco," a deep, rich Hispanic voice greeted me, sounding slightly shaken with concern.

I raised an eyebrow. Blaise had a deep voice, but not this deep of one. It couldn't be him. My boyfriend never greets me by saying 'Hello, Draco,'. He always says something to the effect of 'S'up D'man,' (even though he knows I'm not particularly fond of California-talk.) 'Hola, D!' or 'Hey, baby!'

I shrugged as the mysterious man spoke again. "This—this is Carlos Zabini," he offered, obviously aware of my confusion. The voice shook again, more this time, so it was clear that he was nervous or perhaps frightened. Just like Anastasia. Kinky…

Whatever. Seriously—this is probably all me. I'm still recovering from Gitta. **NOTHING** is wrong with anyone at Zabini Manor. Especially with the one person I love over there. And again, Anastasia's weirdness means nothing. House-elves are never told important matters above their own masters. It just doesn't happen.

Now…Carlos is his name? Does Blaise have an older brother? No, Bollocks—he would've told me. What about an uncle at the manor? A visiting relative? An older visiting cousin? Carlos…Carlos…Carlos…? Who's Carlos Zabini? I really don't remember a Carlos living in Zabini Manor. At this next set of awkward silence, Carlos spoke again. "Blaise's father?" he volunteered to help me out.

"Oh!" it finally clicked.

Duh! "Hello Mr. Zabini! I am so sorry for being disrespectful earlier with the not talking—I had no idea, sir. I knew you weren't Blaise, and I didn't think he had an older brother," I explained.

No wonder I was confused—I should've known, though. Blaise has been through so many dad's, it's hard to remember which ones are dead and which one is current. It would be easier if each dad had a different last name, but it's Maya's culture for the women to keep her last name. I do remember that his birth dad's name was Miguel—do I get any credit for that? "Anyways," I continued on, "I'm real sorry. It should've been clear who you were when my house-elf called you Mr. Zabini. So…how are you?"

Carlos sighed. "Not good, actually. Matters aren't running too well over here, Draco."

I knew the phone was shaking in his hands because I could hear the vibrations from the other end. What would make Mr. Zabini fall apart like this? What was going on at Zabini Manor? My head spun as my head raced with thoughts to all the unanswered questions…

"Is Blaise at your house?"

It came out of nowhere, out of the blue, rushing my thoughts back to Earth. "What?"

I hadn't fully comprehended his words. "My son—Blaise. Is he at your house?"

"Um…no, sir. Why would he be? I explained to him last night that I had a dinner party to attend. Plus, my dad's here at the manor tonight anyway, so he couldn't have. Why?"

What was going on? I stood there, my back against the wall, wondering what this was all about. Wasn't Blaise at his own house? "Did you check the secret attic in Blaise's room on the last floor? He hides up there all the time when he's mad and needs his own space and told me it's a place you'd never look," I suggested after a few moments of thought.

Mr. Zabini tended to over-react when he couldn't find his son in the manor. Sometimes I think it would save the man a lot of stress if he just bought a smaller house without secret rooms. Of course, the Zabini Manor was built with Blaise's third dad, and it would only be sold if Mrs. Zabini said so. Plus, those secret rooms **REALLY** come in handy when you're in a relationship…

"No…he wouldn't be up there…he's **NOT** up there, I know so," Carlos sighed.

I decided to give him a few more suggestions. "You could check the library, behind the Dark Arts shelf. If you move that shelf to the left, it reveals a small door to crawl through. If you crawl long enough, the room expands until you're in a chamber with a stone staircase that leads to an awesome room. It has two beds, lots of cobwebs, spell books, creepy cabinets and potions and candles…he likes hiding up there, too, because it's—well it **WAS** completely secret until I told you. Listen, Mr. Zabini, if you find him up there, please don't mention the fact I tipped you off, okay? I'm in a relationship, you know and I _REALLY_ don't want it ended just yet!"

I sighed. There goes the secret of my favorite Zabini chamber. Blaise and I adore that room! Sometimes we sneak up there for make-out sessions, and sometimes…well…let's just say sometimes it was a _little_ more than kissing going on…

"How do you know about all these rooms?" Carlos questioned, a little annoyed.

"Mr. Zabini, I'm in a relationship, I have to know!" I said.

"I'm the father—why don't **I** know?"

"Well--"

"Never mind, I don't have time! Are you sure mi hijo is not there?" he interrupted, becoming impatient.

"I'm sure. How about you check the room hidden beyond--"

"Draco Malfoy, **PLEASE**! I am not checking any secret rooms. Mi hijo is not in the house, okay?" he screamed hotly.

I frowned. "Are you sure, sir? It never hurts to check again. I'm certain he wouldn't leave the estate, all right? There's way too many cool places to hide," I assured him but he still didn't seem confident in me.

"The window in his bedroom is open," he informed me, voice still shaking.

"Yeah—well, you know, sir, there are explanations for that," I said brightly, determined to keep my hopes up and calm him down at the same time. "Perhaps he wanted cooler air. Or maybe he wanted you to believe he ran away so you wouldn't find him in the manor."

Carlos sighed, "No, Lo siento, ustede no comprede, Draco."

I waited with anticipation for his next words—his next, extremely dreadful words, "M.S. is missing, too."

And that convinced me, momentarily, that something horrific really **HAD** happened to him—my boyfriend, my baby—**my** Blaise Zabini.

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End file.
